A Reunion for Two
by Bye11
Summary: Written for Sweetjamielee's The "Plan B" Summer 2013 TGW Ficathon. The prompt was "Alicia/Will-Georgetown reunion".


**A/N: The prompt given was "Alicia/Will-Georgetown reunion". The year of the reunion was not specified so I chose the 10th. I hope that whoever gave this prompt gets to read this ficlet and that all of you enjoy it.**

Will Gardner was too cool for school reunions.

Or at least he had been. He had scoffed at the invite he had received for his high-school reunion. His mother had carefully kept it for when he had returned home but his immediate reaction had been enough to tell her that there was no chance of him participating and therefore, to his mother's deep regret, to rekindle things with one of his first sweethearts. The college one had arrived at his home address and had been promptly thrown away together with the rest of the rotting and smelly garbage.

What was he doing then to his 10-year Georgetown reunion?

He had told himself it was nothing more than a networking opportunity. Some of those ex-classmates of his could have taken root in interesting firms, or more helpfully, they could keep him in mind in case they needed to advice a referral in Chicago. And ok, there was a sliver of him that wanted to smack in their faces his success, his being a name partner in a medium, soon-to-be-top firm. The man that used to be a speaker in his class, that kept many of them gob-smacked in awe was now sharing a floor with him.

There was a lot to be proud of.

It absolutely was not about seeing her. He knew better than that. She lived in the same city, they swapped polite chatters at elite events. He wouldn't need a crowded ballroom miles away from home to meet her.

But when he spotted her, trapped amid the infamous group of people they had dubbed-correction, she had dubbed -"the vain smurfs", all pretenses washed away.

He had been looking for a reason to reconnect for way too long.

The path of their drifting apart had been long and winding but it could be summed up with a series of short sentences that she had pronounced and he had, tortuously, heard.

"I think I'm in love with Peter."

"I'm getting married."

"I'm taking a break from the law."

Their line of connection, while never being severed had become flimsy after that last one. He didn't want to judge her decisions and yet it was hard not to voice his disagreement over her choice. She was a much finer legal mind than her husband could ever aspire to be. He had envied her natural hand at the law. She couldn't waste it like that, could she? No man was worthy of such a sacrifice on her part. So he had congratulated her on the baby, assured her that she would be an amazing mom and then gone silent.

His career had taken off and the time left to marinate on old crushes had slowly disappeared. And if, from time to time, when in bed looking over his latest flame, his thoughts wandered to the box of memories labeled with the name of a married woman, he corrected their course with scotch or the latest legal brief.

Her expression changed utterly when she spotted him approaching. From uncomfortable and clearly looking for a way out, she seemed to have conjured one of those real smiles that used to be a constant presence of their student years.

"Will..."

The tinge of affection in her enunciation of his name was unmistakable. Maybe it was just the reunion-setting with an at-times morbid air of nostalgia that had brought her to the ancient feelings of a shared youth but he couldn't care less.

"Alicia..."

The group around them started chattering away and asking rhetoric questions, hoping he'd reciprocate. Instead, he shook their hands quickly before stealing Alicia away. So much for networking.

"10 years and nothing has changed. You still have to have all the attention to yourself", Stenton called after them. A rabid dog with a bone, he attached himself to any political connection he could get. He was aiming to be a judge but his insufferable behavior and general unpleasantness would never land him a spot on the other side of the bench.

"You're right, 10 years later, I still get the girl and you get the sorry rest."

He winked at him while Alicia was so close that he could hear the rich and deeply-calming sound of her laughter as if he was experiencing it himself.

"Have you realized that he's married?" she said once out of earshot, on the sparsely-populated terrace.

"Someone has married Stenton."

"I hope she comes at my firm when it's time for the inevitable divorce."

To her credit, she tried to do the proper thing and swat his opinion away, but her hilarity could not be masked. She wasn't THAT good of a politician's wife.

"So your firm, eh? Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"I thought you said you never wanted to be the ampersand partner. That he's just a dope that gets taken for a ride and loses all his clients in the meantime."

"I've gotten wiser and older since then. And Stern has gotten much wiser-he's hired me- and much, much older."

He winked at her and her affronted answering look told him she had caught his drift.

"Will..."

Old fantasies never truly died. That particular "Will..." of hers, reproaching and conniving, had been the star of his teacher/student scenario. She used to joke about his sexual fantasies, in passing conversation. Each and every time he had in mind to tell her that she was the only woman featured in them but it would be too personal, he couldn't just reveal himself like that, could he? He had replayed all those moments in his mind and scolded himself at each minimal act of cowardice that had led her straight to Peter Florrick.

"What? You were the one enamored with him, not me."

Switching his voice to imitate Alicia's, he went on:

"Oh, Will, see how inspiring he is! Oh Will, see how he holds the attention of all his listeners! Oh Will, do you think he can hung the moon?"

She smacked him then, on the chest. The gesture was familiar, maybe too much so. He reminisced, unwillingly, of her dorm room, them sprawled on the sofa, him keeping the hand that had exerted the blow, to bring her on top of him, their eyes suddenly devoid of laughter. And then her damn phone. Peter. Alicia's cheeks turning adorably scarlet. Her rush dismissal, her avoidance in the following days.

"Seriously, how is it, working with him?"

Her question was not facetious but most of all, the delivery wasn't that of a routine question. She truly was interested in hearing his answer. Her eyes betrayed her excitement at his prospect of sharing cases with the lawyer she had so admired. Alicia Cavanaugh still lived and breathed in her housewife-doppelganger.

The question assumed a forlorn importance he was sure she had not intended. Maybe he could entice her back where she belonged, at least he could keep alive in her those dreams of hers he had heard so many times.

"I'm learning a lot from him."

"10 years, a firm that has your name as an appendix and still you cannot lie to me."

That took him by surprise. Either she was wrong, and what a rare occurrence that was, or she was right, and then she had seen through him even when he had congratulated her on her wedding and what came after. He wondered if it extended to his lies by omission. Had she always known how he felt about her and rejected him by feigning ignorance? That was not an acceptable train of thought, at least not when she was so near. He started talking hoping to veer the conversation and his mind away from forbidden territory.

"Since there are no witnesses other than an inebriated woman that can't handle her alcohol, I'll tell you the truth."

"You take it back."

"What, that you're an inebriated woman? You were talking with Stenton & company, you have to be."

"That I can't handle my alcohol."

"Is that a serious threat to your reputation in Highland Park?"

"It is, I've just moved there, I can't let my neighbor Mrs. Judge think she can out-tequila me."

Her humor was dry and biting as ever. He was utterly pleased to ascertain that.

"Fine, I won't tell your secret if you don't reveal mine."

"Those are unfair terms, counselor. Mine is not a secret. It's a pernicious lie you just made up."

"For Mrs. Judge it would just be ammunition against the scared freshwoman."

"You're evil."

"And I revel in it."

"Come on, let's go for a walk, o evil one."

She put her arm on his and tugged so that he would move with her. The evening was breezy and the wind was giving her hair and dress a movie-star treatment. They soon turned a corner, the hotel disappearing from view together with the cheerful banners.

Hundreds of ex-classmates couldn't hold their attention. Theirs would be a reunion for two.

"So, what's the big secret?"

"I think I'm learning more from my other partner."

"Ms. Lockhart? Why would that be a great secret? Peter said she's a force to be reckoned with."

His first instinct was to put some distance between the two of them. He still hated with a passion her pronouncing her husband's name. These were just vestiges of the student in love. He refrained.

"Do you remember what happened when Professor Mills told you what I had written in the peer-evaluation of our Tort Law team? I couldn't hear the end of it for MONTHS."

"To this day, it's the most praise I've received. From anyone."

His true self would have answered "you deserved it all", but it would be infringing on a line he had drawn once she had said "I do".

"And instead of thanking me, you gave me a hard time. I also never understood why he never let me read your evaluation on me."

"Because he hated you."

"Yes, he did."

"Do you want to know? What I wrote? As a reunion gift?"

Did he? The curiosity had always eaten him on the subject. Alicia was thrifty with compliments. He had more than once wished that she would open up, so that he wouldn't have to infer from her actions, her expressions, her looks. But at the moment he couldn't see any advantage in hearing the words he had tried to take a peek at. She could lie. Harsh words would blemish that experience. Laudatory words, they would add to his pile of regret because they WOULD have mattered back then. He shook his head.

"No, thanks. In any case, Diane would react exactly like you and this time I won't risk it."

Apparently she was bewildered by his answer. He couldn't blame her. When would Will Gardner ever refuse the chance to hear a compliment? He shrugged and still chose to stick with his decision and in turn she decided to drop it.

"Fine, she'll never know."

"Good. What about you? Aside from the ghostwriting, of course."

He had constructed the sentence carefully, in preparation for the chance of seeing her. Too many people, in interviews and from what he had heard before saving her were asking her about her husband and her children. As if her life was defined only by the achievements of others. As if her existence had stopped mattering. Unacceptable.

"Ghost-writing?"

"Sure, the speech he gave to the Teachers' Union."

"What about it and since when do you listen to speeches like that?"

"Oh, come on, Alicia, don't play coy. What was the phrase? Let me think "let's never forget about the teacher that sternly set us on the path to success"... Do I need to go on? You said the exact same thing about your English teacher and don't even try to deny it."

He was lucky they were near a lampion or he would have missed the blush that suddenly enflamed her.

"How on earth do you remember that?"

"I just do."

"Yes, I do help him from time to time. We share the same values . It just makes sense. But nobody knows, so..."

"Ah, see, I did manage to wrangle a secret out of you after all."

"You did. And you didn't even think to refill my drink before leaving. You're losing points by the second."

"I'm sorry, who suggested the walk?"

"Predictable, Mr. Gardner, predictable. The best questions are those the witness and the opposing counsel don't see coming."

"So, that's why Professor Mills hated me. I refused to memorize verbatim his teachings. I still do."

"Liar. You recognized it immediately. Can't you tell that it's a tip-off?"

"There is a profound difference between remembering the gist and remembering the exact words."

"And how would you know those were the exact words if you don't remember them?"

"You confirmed it."

"I did no such thing. You used the word verbatim first."

"We haven't changed at all, have we? Still debating every single detail."

"And you still change the topic whenever you realize that you've lost."

The intimacy built in those three years was still there, untouched by time, or by changing circumstances.

They took their usual trail around the city. To the casual onlooker, they would appear like honeymooners, at that stage in their relationship where every single shared look or inconsequential word-exchange seemed entertaining and worth at least a smile.

Instead, an hour or so later, they were again on the steps of the hotel, slated to part. Back to real life, the same city but divergent paths.

"Thanks, for giving me a possibility to avoid hours of Stenton."

"What about the exceptional company? Doesn't that deserve an additional thanks?"

"On that front, it is you who should be thanking me."

"When you're right, you're right. Thanks."

"Do you think it'll take us another ten years, to have a conversation like that? Honest, fun..."

"I don't know about you but I'm always fun."

"Will..."

"Let's hope not."

"Let's."

Irony would have that the very man that had caused the fracture between the two of them would provide the push for their hope to become reality. Only five out of the ten years had passed when he pushed the green button on his phone.

"Will,... I need your help."


End file.
